Hilary duff

So, this isn't actually my own writing, but I just had to share:

let the rain fall down and wake my dreams
let it wash away my sanity;
because I want to feel the thunder,
I want to scream,
Let the rain fall down,
I'm coming clean, I'm coming clean.

This is such a gorgeous image; it expresses how I want to feel - I need to have my sanity washed away, so that I can just burst into new life. I need to 'com[e]... clean'.

sitting here.

I am just
sitting here, longing to venture out into the
fresh rain. I hear it pour against the windows and lash against my
door. How I long to welcome him in. In from the cold,
in to the frozen depths of my heart.

I am just
watching him, sitting on the ground outside, picking up the pebbles
on the driveway, one by one. His hair drips against his
sodden cheek. His fingers brush the dirt from yet
another paving stone.

I am just
singing to myself, here, watching from my encased window;
humming a lullaby I've never heard. I wonder if he can
hear my song, for soon to sleep will his drooping head go.
Sung to sleep by my soft lullaby, drifting off to slumber to my slowly
dancing tune.

the touch

a gentle hand caresses
over my painted skin. a sigh
of warm, breath upon my horizon
of despair. until this moment life
felt without reason, purpose,
rhyme. but now, and yet - the moment
calls for celebration, and yet my heart
screams caution, and I cry from within
my depths; what is the meaning of this? my
deepest thoughts, long hidden and gathering dust,
my darkest secrets blown to the surface, and

I watch myself disperse the last seeds of myself;
the final cord connecting me to I. a silent word is
all it takes, and then -

nothing.

seething anger froths through
my mind and bursts out of my
head. putrid vengeance sparks from
my burning eyes. injustice that
cannot be solved or tackled without
loss of money, loss of love, loss of
reason. his voice penetrates the foulest
darkness and pierces the sharpest hatred.
all is forgotten in rage and malice - I
can think of nothing but revenge. no
reason can be stated - no rhythm beaten
out that does not pander to his tastes.
our people suffer cruelly beneath this tyrant's
reign and all shout out in silent anguish -
how long now - how long?

competition

I decided to enter a poetry competition; red house books, this is the poem I entered:

For every lie I tell her, for
each time I hurt her, I steal some
soft innocence from her open self. My
pride over pain, my hate over lust*,
each burning word tearing flesh in a
thirst for blood. Fresh tears mark a path down
the garden of her soul as she lifts weary eyes
to the stainless steel river of snow. Heartbreak
over laughter. Hatred over guilt. My name is everlasting,
My hope is for all. He lifts down his hand and
raises her; and at his blessed* feet I fall.


*trust/lust
*blessed is supposed to have an accent on the e :)



Icthus

ode to a beautiful man

He is beautiful. Each line of his
etched face has been carved by my fingers;
I feel him now; soft and warm beneath
my skin. Deep in concentration, the
creases upon his forehead, and the hands
in rapid motion; writing, writing. His hands
move through his hair, and the sigh of a weary
day flows from his aching neck, his back, his
shoulders. He rubs his eyes with the balls of his
hands, and his exhaustion lets his wandering gaze
fall upon me. He is beautiful.

Introduction :)

I wanted to set up a blog to specifically share my poems, instead of having one that had the occasional poem shoved in, so... here goes :)

Icthus